


I still don't know my heart

by attolians (annber)



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Just lots of fluff, M/M, no beta we die like men, that's pretty much it, with two pinches of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23355613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annber/pseuds/attolians
Summary: I am SEVERELY late for Evan Buckley Week so I rolled these prompts into one fic!•	March 23rd - Day 1: “That’s my family.” + fluff•	March 24th - Day 2: “Why are you naked?” + fun•	March 25th - Day 3: “Please don’t close your eyes!” + hurt•	March 26th - Day 4: “You want to marry me?” + love•	March 27th - Day 5: “You’re a good liar.” + comfort•	March 28th - Day 6: “I won’t let you do this.” + angst
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), mentioned Buck/Abby
Comments: 10
Kudos: 321





	I still don't know my heart

**Author's Note:**

> (full disclosure I wrote this in a five hour fever dream with a glass of wine)
> 
> am I even awake right now I have no clue??
> 
> hi, hello, please excuse any errors I just really wanted to participate and felt bad for being late so here is my offering

It’s at the end of a long day that Buck wakes his phone to see one missed call and a voicemail.

Nothing particularly bad had happened but Buck still feels an unexplainable dread filling him at the notifications on his screen.

It’s a number he doesn’t recognize but a local area code.

A hookup that never should have happened? Someone he gave his number to in hopes of a hookup that never should have happened?

Everything…lately everything feels so far away. He can’t believe it hasn’t even been two years since he met Abby.

He can’t believe in the scope of his life, it’s barely been a fraction to transform from who he was as Buck 1.0 to who he is now.

It’s pretty rare for him to think of himself as a man but sometimes – sometimes he thinks he can feel it.

He’ll catch just part of himself in the reflection of a window with the light _gleaming_ off the reflective stripes of his turnout coat.

He’ll notice an old shirt is far too small now – laughably so.

More important than that though, he’s finally starting to feel like an adult. He feels like he’s finally getting some miles on him; in a good way. It’s less and less that he feels particularly embarrassed over something.

He can’t even remember the last time he had a fight with anyone. Not to mention his family. His _family_.

This mosaic masterpiece of all these people that maybe used to feel like they were misfits. That maybe used to feel like they would never belong anywhere.

They’d all been wrong.

It took time and it hurt like hell – but they’d finally ended up right where they were supposed to be.

Is his life perfect? Hell no. Is he perfect? Laughably not.

But he’s better. Things are getting better.

So, what is he worried for?

It’s not like this one little phone call, this voicemail from an unknown number, is gonna shake the foundations he’s built with his bare hands.

…Right?

…

 _“Hi, uh, Evan…Buck, it feels weird to call you Buck after all this time, you know? After…all this. Uh – anyway. I…what I wanted to say – It’s Abby-”she breaks off to laugh gently, “I didn’t say that, did I? It’s Abby. Hi, Buck. I’m…well, I’m back in LA. And I know we left a lot of things unresolved. I…_ I _left a lot of things unresolved. I know it’s too late to pick back up just where we left off but…well, would you be interested in getting some coffee?”_

…

Buck’s stomach has been unsettled for hours now.

He doesn’t know what to make of the message.

He doesn’t know why Abby would bother calling him when it’s been _months_ since they’ve spoken.

Just let what’s dead rest, right?

Obviously, she doesn’t want to get back together. If she’d wanted that – well, the message would have been different, wouldn’t it? Would it? Buck frowns and runs a hand over his brow.

_Do I want her back?_

Just thinking the words in the safety of his own mind has Buck biting at his bottom lip in a forlorn confusion.

It would be monumentally stupid to get his hopes up. He has to know that. He does. He knows it.

 _It would be monumentally stupid to get your hopes up, Buckley,_ he tells himself firmly.

Not that his hopes and he are really on speaking terms right now.

Buck knows he’s not stupid…most of the time.

He’s impulsive, sure. He’s emotional. Sometimes he gets _so_ focused on one track that it takes him a couple minutes to shift his mind in a different direction. He’s fine with it.

Sure, it leaves him open for ribbing sometimes but he doesn’t mind. His team is his family – they know he’s smart. They know he’s damn good at what he does. Most importantly, they’re willing to trust him with their lives.

There’s a sort of intimacy in that. Even if Hen still refers to him as a different breed of dog weekly. What’s a family you can’t tease?

 _A family that you want for the rest of your life,_ his mind unhelpfully supplies. _A family like Eddie and Christopher-_

Buck shoves off his couch, making his way to the fridge for a beer so he can stop thinking about that.

Yeah, his hopes… His hopes have been too high for a few months now.

Not since Abby left…but not too long after either.

But that brings him right back to square one.

Does he want Abby back?

But does that even matter? Because what if she doesn’t want him back?

Is he just destined to wait around forever for someone that doesn’t want him back?

Buck freezes right where he is.

The cold beer is in hand, his thumb already sneaking under the edge of the label.

What’s that they say about people who peel the labels off bottles? That they’re sexually frustrated?

He can’t even remember the last time he got laid.

And that’s not pathetic – not really.

Sex with Abby had changed things. _Everything_ with Abby had changed things.

All of a sudden it wasn’t just about the rush and endorphins of orgasm. He could do that himself if he really needed to.

No, there was an additional connection that he craved. He wanted to know that person. He wanted to care for them – he wanted them to care for him too.

That was the crux of the matter really.

It’s hard not to feel broken without constant distraction.

It’s hard to stop picking at a scab without a band-aid to cover it.

But Buck doesn’t hook up anymore. He doesn’t even know anyone he would text or call at this point.

_Certainly not Abby._

Buck grunts at himself in his own silent kitchen, unable to keep his displeasure inside.

He sets the beer down on the island with a thunk and goes to search out his phone.

Rather than texting anyone, he does what he usually does lately when he has too much time to himself and needs a pick-me-up.

He calls Eddie.

…

Buck doesn’t think he’s a magnet for trouble. Not most days anyway.

But…

Maybe it’s a part of the job. Maybe it’s byproduct of hanging out with Athena so much. Some leftover SEAL training?

The point is; Buck is _very_ good at getting a read on people.

He doesn’t notice it all the time. Usually he’s focused on something else.

A fire. Someone bleeding. Bobby yelling at him. Eddie’s a–

Buck shakes himself.

He takes a couple steps closer to the guy hovering by the bench across from the park.

Buck’s got a cardboard cup carrier in one hand with coffees for Eddie and him and a cookie for Chris balanced precariously between them. His other hand is free but there’s not too much he can do with it – not if he has to act quickly.

The thing of it is… The guy’s not even really looking at Chris. It doesn’t _look_ like he is.

How the hell is Buck supposed to know? But this guy is definitely giving Buck a bad feeling. From the nape of his neck all the way down to his bad leg.

Buck grips the cup carrier tighter. He straightens his spine and sticks his chest out a little.

“Are you here for a reason?”

The guy jumps – not a good sign. Then he won’t meet Buck’s eyes.

Even worse.

“I don’t think it’s any of your business,” he mutters eventually.

Buck nearly laughs – but that would probably send the wrong message.

“That’s my family over there,” he growls deliberately, “so you better get the hell out of here because I have a sergeant of the LAPD on my speed dial.”

A sergeant that probably wouldn’t appreciate being used as leverage but…she doesn’t have to know either.

The guy doesn’t scramble for any excuses about why he’s lingering around the park. Instead, he goes about two shades paler beneath his stringy beard and shoves his hands in his pockets. He turns abruptly away from Buck and makes his way down the sidewalk.

He only glances back once.

Buck hasn’t moved a single muscle, making sure the guy clears out first.

“Everything okay?” Eddie checks when Buck returns.

Buck smiles reassuringly.

“Everything’s just fine.”

“Thanks, Bucky!” Christopher cries, launching himself into Buck’s side to snag his cookie without actually asking for it.

Buck doesn’t mind though.

If anything, he’s relieved Chris is happy and unaffected.

Chris is too young, he’s already been through too much; he’ll never have to suffer anything Buck can prevent.

…

It took Buck two days to call Abby back – almost a week for them to meet for coffee.

Buck is unspeakably nervous all day, ridiculously glad he doesn’t have a shift beforehand.

He makes it to the coffeeshop nearly half an hour early with sweaty hands and a racing heart.

_What if she wants him back? What if she doesn’t?_

It’s not like Buck is dating anyone.

Which is half by choice.

But can he just get back together with Abby?

He can’t. He’s almost 70% sure he can’t.

It’s been so long. So many things have happened.

The thing of it is – Buck’s a different person.

But he still can’t quiet this riotous hope in his heart. Not even the fear can crush it.

Because what if? What if she does want him back?

What if he’s worthy of being loved?

He gets in line for coffee in an effort to banish the thought. Not that he should add coffee to this mess but…

When he turns around, coffee cup with ‘Beck’ (really?) in hand – Abby’s there.

The shock of it takes Buck’s breath away.

She hasn’t seen him yet, still settling into a chair at one of the larger tables. She’s taking her purse off her shoulder to hang on the back of her chair. Her hair is in a loose braid over her shoulder, glasses switched to a clear acrylic pair. He can’t see too much from this distance but it looks like she has a pink gloss on her lips.

Is that a good sign?

Buck doesn’t move yet, making sure to take a deep breath.

She’s not too dressed up – just an oatmeal cardigan over a pale floral blouse and jeans rolled at her calves.

He’d better get a move on before she catches him standing there and staring like a creep.

They’re both early – is that another good sign?

As Buck crosses the shop, the whole front section probably only forty feed wide, time seems to slow down.

There’s a giddiness filling up Buck’s chest.

Maybe it’s just seeing her again.

Being with Abby had been… Being with Abby had put his life into focus.

For the first time in forever Buck had felt like things were clicking into place.

It’s not that he believes in fate…exactly. He thinks he’s seen too many bad things happen to too many good people. But he can’t help but think that Abby was the closest he ever got.

Being in love – feeling at home in another person.

He felt simultaneously exhilarated and comforted by her. As much as he didn’t want to let her down he also thought that maybe it would have been impossible to.

For a short while, he’d thought Abby was _it_ for him.

Then he sees her pull a black velvet ring box from her purse – and time screeches to a complete halt.

Buck stops so quickly he nearly collides with a chair he’d been planning to walk around.

He can’t make the picture go right in his head.

Abby still hasn’t seen him. She’s opening the ring box and looking inside, smiling softly to herself.

Buck uses his height to his advantage, peering around the lid.

It definitely looks like a man’s ring inside – plain gold and hovering well over the velvet pillows. There’s no way it’s Abby’s size.

A fist is clenched painfully around Buck’s heart.

He forces his feet forward, feeling as if both legs have been turned to stone.

“Abby,” he manages – croaks really.

Shit – he should have at least taken a sip of coffee.

Abby looks up and her eyes widen comically. She snaps the ring box shut and covers it with both hands as if there’s any chance Buck hasn’t already seen it.

The entire situation is so ridiculous – Buck blurts the first thing that comes to his mind.

“You want to marry me?”

“Oh my god, Buck!” Abby cries. She turns, shoving the ring box into her purse. “I’m-I’m sorry I didn’t mean for you to see that! You’re so early.”

She climbs to her feet, hands fluttering and settling for patting Buck’s arms awkwardly.

Buck doesn’t know what to think. He doesn’t manage to do anything but sink into one of the four chairs.

“I – um, sorry I just…what’s going on?”

A man enters Buck’s peripheral vision, squeezing Abby’s shoulder before pulling out the chair at the side of the table and sitting down.

“Hi,” he says, either unaware of the tension or choosing to purposely ignore it, “I’m Mark, Abby’s-”

“Husband,” Abby sighs, cutting him off. “He already saw the ring,” Abby says to Mark.

She passes him the box from her purse and Mark puts the ring on his left ring finger before closing the box. He digs a ring out of his pocket and passes it to Abby.

“Well, I’m glad we did this whole charade,” Mark says, smiling in a way Buck thinks is teasing.

For his part, Buck blinks.

Mark has at least ten years on Buck. His brown hair is going grey at the temples but he’s in good shape still, wearing a nicely fitting green button down tucked into jeans.

“Buck, I’m so sorry,” Abby says. “I wanted some time to tell you…the right way. But, now I see that was a mistake. I’m so sorry for what it looked like.”

Buck lets out a breath and feels a small smile form on his lips.

“It’s alright,” he says. “Honestly, if that ring had been for me you might have had to call 911 again.”

It’s good. Really, it is.

There’s too much that’s come between them now.

Maybe it was fate for them to come together but it must have also been fate for them to fall apart.

Abby was good for Buck…he likes to think he was good for her too.

Abby smiles at him and Buck still feels a fondness for her, but it’s almost the same fondness he feels for Hen or Chim.

He loves her, really he does. But the love has aged and changed. Probably in all the ways it was meant to right from the beginning.

Sometimes people aren’t forever – and that’s okay.

“How have you been?” Abby asks, tucking a stray bit of hair behind her ear.

“There have been some ups and downs,” Buck admits. “But…I’m good.”

The thing is, it doesn’t even feel like a lie when he says it.

…

The next day Buck’s back at the station. He’s just about to get to the punchline of the story – that the ring is _not_ for him – when the alarm goes off.

Everyone gathered around groans in unison but they don’t hesitate more than that before heading for their gear.

“So?” Eddie asks, over the roar of the engine and the wail of the siren.

“So?” Buck asks, readjusting his headset and looking at the man beside him.

“What happened? Are you engaged?”

“Oh, right!” Buck can’t help but grin, launching back into the story. “So, this dude comes up – right? And he goes – ‘I’m Mark’ and she goes ‘my husband’ and she gives _him_ the ring! I guess she wanted to like break it to me gently or whatever? Almost gave me a heart attack in the process though.”

There’s a pause where Buck had been expecting laughter and he peers around the truck.

Concerned faces look back at him.

“And…” Chim begins, “you’re…okay?”

“I’m good,” Buck reassures him. “It’s been…a long time. Who even knows if we’d still get along?”

“Still happy living that single life then?”

Buck shrugs. He wouldn’t say he’s _happy_ to be single but…

“Just waiting for the right person, I guess.”

“Maddie can still get you Josh’s number,” Chim teases, leaning across the space between them to smack Buck’s knee.

Buck laughs at him, halfheartedly swatting back.

It’s the last time he laughs that day.

…

Buck’s voice is shredded.

Not that he’s used it in the past four hours.

Everyone in the waiting room gave up trying to speak to him but they still sit there in silent vigil with cold coffees in their hands or at their feet.

Bobby’s in there somewhere. Deep in the bowels of the hospital being cut open or sewn up or… _Dead already,_ Buck’s brain provides traitorously.

Buck inhales, bending down to cover his face with his hands and exhale deeply.

It’s his fault.

No one can tell him otherwise because they all know the truth.

Buck was too distracted on the scene and he hadn’t been paying attention. Hadn’t he just told himself the other day that it was fine that he was so focused on one thing at a time?

That was a damn lie.

And now Bobby’s the one fighting for his life back there – not Buck.

_It should have been me. It should have been me. It should have been…_

Athena had hugged him so tight when she arrived Buck felt his back crack. He’d buried his face in her shoulder for a precious few seconds of comfort and reprieve – not that he deserved them.

Michael was already struggling with fucking brain cancer and now her second husband was in the hospital fighting for his life too?

Buck feels sick.

The worst part of it is, Bobby doesn’t blame him. Buck _knows_ Bobby doesn’t blame him because of the last thing his captain had said to him.

_“Bobby!” Buck had screamed, turning the man over and pulling him up by the lapels of his turnout coat. “Jesus Christ, Bobby, look at me!”_

_“You’re alright – you’re okay,” Bobby croaked out. Then his eyes fluttered and rolled back._

_How could Buck be okay with his heart on the asphalt?_

_“No, God! No, Bobby! Don’t close your eyes! Please, don’t close your eyes!”_

_It’s utter chaos around them. Buck has no idea where the car is that clipped Bobby – the one that had been heading for him. He has no idea why the scene wasn’t secured or why the car didn’t stop…_

_All he knows is Bobby is unconscious on the ground, blood is trickling out of his mouth, and Buck can’t seem to breathe at all._

_“Please, don’t close your eyes…”_

If Bobby could have listened, he would have.

But he wasn’t in control anymore.

None of them were.

…

Buck doesn’t know what time it is when he gets dropped off at home.

He still hasn’t spoken, unsure what his voice would sound like if he even tried.

Slowly, he drags his feet up the stairs to his bedroom. He looks at his bed and for almost twenty seconds he thinks he’s going to climb into it.

But…they still don’t have an update from the hospital. He won’t be able to sleep either way.

Not to mention, he’s pretty sure he still has grime from the street on him somewhere.

Buck sighs, he runs a hand down his face.

It’s far too quiet in his apartment.

 _A shower,_ he thinks absently, _a shower will help._

At least it would be noise.

There’s a text waiting by the time he gets out.

_Out of surgery. In ICU for the night. <<_

Buck’s knees give out as his eyes scan over the words. He lands half on the edge of his bed, his feet barely pushing back against the floor in time to keep him from falling off.

Over and over again he reads the text.

He should still be at the hospital. He should have been there for the update.

It’s the _least_ he can do.

Buck thinks about it. He thinks about getting dressed again and getting an uber or a lyft or something.

But…he’s pretty sure Athena would just send him away.

If that’s what she wants then that’s what he’ll do.

It makes a lump form in Buck’s throat and he tries to swallow around it.

He lies back in bed and sniffles quietly to himself.

After some maneuvering he’s mostly diagonal on the bed and half tucked under the sheets.

As bone weary as he is – it doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

…

He wakes to someone calling his name from downstairs.

Tendrils of his dream are still wrapped around his brain and Buck’s mouth opens in a yawn. He feels oddly calm as he reaches up to rub the sleep from his eyes.

Then…he starts to remember.

Buck pulls the comforter off the floor and over his head as Eddie calls his name from downstairs again.

“I texted you like thirty times, dude, are you alive?”

The heels of Eddie’s boots start clapping up the stairs as he jogs up.

“Evan?” he calls cautiously.

Buck doesn’t answer, hoping if Eddie thinks he’s asleep he’ll go away.

Of course – Eddie doesn’t.

Instead, the comforter is ripped off Buck and Eddie chokes quietly before laughing.

“Dude! Why are you naked?”

Buck jerks up, face heating as he brings the corner of the sheet over his lap.

“There was a towel,” he explains lamely. “I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

“Yeah, well, Bobby _is_ expecting visitors – so get your pale ass out of bed and let’s go.”

Buck perks up immediately.

“Bobby’s awake? He’s okay?”

“Yes, he’s awake. I’m going to make you some coffee – looks like you need it.”

He turns back around and heads down the stairs.

“We’re leaving in five,” Eddie calls back.

Buck jumps out of bed and rushes to his dresser.

Coffee be damned – he could make it three.

…

While Buck had been assured several times by Eddie that Bobby was in fact awake and nearly ready to be moved out of ICU, Buck still needs to see it with his own eyes.

As stupid as it is, he also needs to see that Bobby _wants_ to see him.

But as soon as Buck and Bobby lay eyes on each other, Bobby gives him that soft, reassuring smile. Buck smiles tremulously back at him, his eyes already filling in that telltale way.

“Buckaroo, you look tired,” Bobby says pointedly.

Buck ducks his chin slightly, sliding into the chair by Bobby’s bed. He notices belatedly that Eddie didn’t follow him in.

“I’m good,” Buck denies, “what about you?”

“I’m fine.” Bobby says, enunciating _fine_ precisely. “They’re giving me the good stuff and I get a few days off work. Win/win.”

Buck manages to hold off exactly two and a half seconds.

“Bobby, I’m sorry-”

“Buck,” Bobby cuts him off.

“No,” Buck interrupts. “I wasn’t watching. I should have been.”

“You were watching the _scene_ ,” Bobby says firmly. “That is your job.”

“But-”

“Buck, that driver was three sheets to the wind. They drove around two squad cars.”

Buck frowns. He bites down on the inside of his cheek to try and stem the next words.

“Maybe I came back too soon.”

“That better just be your misplaced guilt talking,” Bobby comments mildly. “You’ve saved a lot of people in these past couple months. You’re going to go on to save a lot more, too.”

“I could do better.”

Bobby is quiet for a long moment and Buck swears he can feel his captain reading his face intently.

“We can probably all do better, but aiming that goal in the wrong direction won’t help anyone. You’re a damn good firefighter, Buck. This is where you belong. And, if I had to push you out of the way again I would do it in a heartbeat.”

Buck’s lip trembles.

He doesn’t know what to say to that. He suspects there aren’t words for the emotion sitting on his chest right now.

A tear slips out and he swipes it away, embarrassed.

Bobby reaches out and Buck takes his hand, sighing shakily.

“I’m alright,” Bobby reassures him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

A few more tears track down Buck’s cheeks but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment. Instead, he holds onto Bobby like a lifeline.

…

After the scene in Bobby’s room, Buck thought he was done crying.

The last thing Buck expects is to burst into tears in Eddie’s truck.

“Jesus, Buck, are you okay?” Eddie yelps. His hand flutters anxiously before settling on Buck’s left forearm. “If you don’t want burgers we don’t have to stop anywhere,” he tries to tease.

Buck only cries harder, both hands clenched in the denim on the sides of his thighs.

“It’s my f-fault,” he manages.

“Hey,” Eddie says, voice low and serious now, “no it isn’t. It could have been any one of us.”

“But it wasn’t,” Buck protests. He grinds his teeth before exhaling hard and speaking again. “It wasn’t any one of us. Just like it wasn’t ‘any one of us’ under that truck, or suing the department, or getting fired twice for being a certified dumbass, or losing Abby, or hoping-” he breaks off, unable to even say the words.

They’re still sitting somewhere between his stomach and his mouth, making it difficult for him to breathe.

_Hoping to get her back? Hoping you’d like me as more than a friend? Hoping to have a home that wasn’t my job?_

He sobs again, hot tears spilling over as he squeezes his eyes closed.

Eddie pulls him closer, close enough that the armrest between them is digging into Buck’s ribs. It’s the least of his worries though.

“Evan – you listen to me. None of that was your fault. We all mess up. We all make mistakes. I ran out on my son. I nearly killed someone a couple months ago because I didn’t want to talk to a therapist.”

Buck can’t calm down. He can’t get a handle on his tears, his breathing, or his mouth.

“But it’s always been like this,” he protests. “I’m on the edges. I’m always outside. And the second I think maybe that’s gonna change – maybe I’ll finally _belong_ somewhere – everything goes to hell.”

Eddie hugs him with both arms then, but seems to be at a loss for what to say.

“Do you think…people just…know?”

“Know what?” Eddie questions hesitantly.

His fingertips sneak into the hair at the base of Buck’s skull, scratching gently.

“That I’m not…enough? Or something?”

Eddie jerks back, wide eyes searching Buck’s face up and down – over and over.

“My parents,” Buck tries to explain, “Abby – Ali…”

He closes his teeth around the _you_ that wants to come out, grinding them again to make sure it can’t slip through.

“I try so hard for people,” Buck admits on a quiet whisper. “I try _so_ hard to be good enough. But it never works.”

“You are good enough, Evan. You’re an amazing man – maybe the most amazing man I’ve met in my life.”

Buck nearly laughs.

He wants to laugh right in Eddie’s face, even as more tears make their way down his face.

Leave it to Eddie to try and save him. Why wouldn’t he? It was his job. It was the job they all sought out.

But Buck doesn’t believe him for a single second.

Eddie’s been to war. He’s served beside men that never came home.

There will never be a single moment of a single day that Buck will measure up.

“You’re a good liar.”

Eddie blinks at him, his face flushed and lips slightly parted.

It’s clear that he doesn’t have a response.

Buck wipes off his face with the hem of his shirt before settling back into his seat and buckling the seatbelt.

“Can you just take me home?”

It takes a couple seconds, but Eddie finally puts the key in the ignition and turns it.

…

Buck gets to spend most of the day by himself.

Not that he does much with it.

He tries to drink a beer but he can’t even get the energy to get drunk. It gets abandoned half full on the coffee table.

He half convinces himself to go for a run but abandons that too. His sneakers get left on the floor by the foot of his bed.

He’s sitting on the couch with the TV on the blu-ray menu when he hears his door open.

Buck closes his eyes briefly and sighs.

He knows deep in his gut that this will not end well.

“Evan,” shit, that’s Maddie and she’s got her No Nonsense Voice™ on. “We are here because we love you,” she continues. “Please come to the kitchen clothed.”

_We?_

That last part meant she’s definitely talked to Eddie.

Buck is screwed.

Can’t a man have a stress induced meltdown in front of the man he loves without repercussions?

Buck sighs to himself before pushing to his feet.

“I’m already dressed. And who’s we?”

Maddie is carrying what looks like a plastic bag of take-out, which is promising and unexpected, but Chim is trailing behind her and behind him is…Eddie.

Buck nearly rolls his eyes.

“What’s up?” Buck asks.

He doesn’t risk sitting on a stool, leaning against the back counter and crossing his arms instead.

“Well,” Maddie stalls, “I know you’re not feeling the best. And I don’t blame you – at all. A lot has been happening.” She pauses, flicking some hair over her shoulder. “But…Chim and I are here…because this is a set-up, goodbye.”

In a matter of seconds she’s dropped the bag on the counter, grabbed Chim’s hand, and yanked him back toward the door.

Eddie and Buck blink at each other.

“Maddie, what the hell?”

“You’re both idiots!” Maddie calls back.

“Just man up!” Chim offers.

Eddie reaches up to rub at the back of his neck, he avoids Buck’s eyes.

“A set up for what?” Buck demands as the door snaps closed. “They bought us dinner?”

“Uh…they drove me over,” Eddie says haltingly.

“ _Why?_ ” Buck demands. “I think you’ve had to put up with me enough for today. I’m sure you have better things to do.”

Buck’s face is hot as he says it, still embarrassed over the day’s events.

“Put up with you?” Eddie echoes. “Buck…what makes you think I don’t want to be here for you? What makes you think I don’t feel just as bad as you do when you’re suffering and I can’t do anything?”

“You could leave,” Buck suggests. “I’m pretty good at wallowing in my own pity.”

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest as well, jaw ticking up a few centimeters.

“I’m not leaving, Buckley.”

“What about Chris?”

“Don’t worry about Chris. We’re talking about you.”

“I don’t want to talk about me. I’m a mess. I think we covered that earlier.”

“Everyone is a mess, it’s the human condition.”

Buck scoffs, his head rolling to the side briefly.

“Listen…I just had a moment. Okay, am I allowed to have a moment?”

“Of course you’re allowed to have a moment,” Eddie huffs. “But you’re not allowed to feel like you’re unloved.”

There’s something about the way his mouth curls around the word _unloved_. Or maybe it’s the conviction behind it.

In any case, the statement hits Buck like a blow to the solar plexus and he finds himself blinking rapidly in its wake.

“It’s-I’m-I mean…I know I’ve got you guys. I know I’ve got family. I just get lonely too.”

“I know you do,” Eddie says.

The words are soft and his eyes are so intent on Buck’s face that Buck finds himself swallowing hard in reaction.

A determined sort of look settles across Eddie’s face – mainly in his brows – and he sets his shoulders before crossing to Buck.

Inexplicably, Buck finds himself wanting to retreat. It’s too bad he’s already leaning against the counter.

“What, uh, what are you doing,” Buck demands; red faced and very, _very_ close to panicking.

“I’m going to prove Maddie wrong,” Eddie says.

Buck has a feeling this does not bode well for the direction of the conversation.

“Or right,” Eddie adds, much softer now that he’s only a few inches away.

“What is Maddie wrong about?” Buck asks.

He has to keep talking. He has to keep Eddie distracted from…whatever he’s going to do.

But there’s that hope again. It’s climbing up Buck’s throat like ivy on a brick wall and it’s a wonder he doesn’t choke on it.

“I could show you,” Eddie suggests.

Buck is either going to throw up, pass out, or kiss Eddie Diaz; hopefully not a combination of the three.

Eddie settles a warm hand on Buck’s shoulder, almost as if to hold him in place. Then, he leans in.

Surely, the world doesn’t slow down. Such things are scientifically impossible, et cetera et cetera. But…Buck feels like he could split right out of his skin with the adrenaline that is pounding through his brain.

He can’t think _why_ Eddie would want to kiss him. He can’t come up with a single thing for Maddie to have said that would convince Eddie to kiss him…but…Buck’s eyes close on their own accord. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides and he doesn’t even dare breathe as Eddie’s lips gently press to his.

_Is this really happening?_

Buck’s mostly sure that it is. Which…is insane. Isn’t it?

Why is Eddie kissing him?

“Wait-” Buck tilts his head to the side to break the kiss abruptly. He blinks but Eddie hasn’t moved. He’s still what seems like mere centimeters away. “I…what?” Buck manages.

“You are not unloved, Evan.”

“But…” Buck can’t think how to finish the protest – he just knows he should protest this.

It’s not right. It can’t be. Because things like this don’t happen to him. He doesn’t get what he wants.

“No,” he remembers to say, trying to sound firm. “No,” he says again, stronger. “I won’t let you do this.”

Eddie waits so Buck gestures between them impatiently.

“ _This_ ,” he repeats. “I don’t need your hero complex or pity or whatever. Eddie, I love you,” and embarrassingly enough, his voice cracks, “I do. I love you. You’re my best friend. But you’re not doing this just because-”

He cuts off on a yelp as Eddie takes him firmly by the hips and lifts him onto the counter.

“What the fuck?” Buck gasps. He’s so stunned, so out of breath, that the words barely leave his mouth.

“I shouldn’t be kissing you right now,” Eddie tells him. “You’ve probably been traumatized. Abby just came back into your life. And then that call,” he shakes his head quickly. “But…I want you to feel better, so…I thought I’d give it a try.” 

He inches Buck’s knees apart slowly, clearly giving Buck the chance to push him back and close his legs.

But Buck doesn’t move and Eddie settles between his legs, leaning against him again.

“So, just for the record. It’s not a hero complex. I’m actually being an asshole right now.”

“You’re not an asshole.”

Buck’s pretty sure his mouth is moving on its own because his brain feels disconnected from his body. Is he in shock?

“If anything, Maddie and Chim are the assholes. Wait, what did she even tell you?”

Buck’s eyes narrow and he can feel himself getting offended, his mouth opens again to continue the interrogation when Eddie kisses him again.

“You worry too much, Cariño,” Eddie says – once he’s rendered Buck silent.

Eddie’s hand comes up and Buck thinks he’s going to get poked between the eyes until the pad of Eddie’s thumb smooths the lines of his brow instead.

“Let’s have dinner,” Eddie suggests, “let’s talk, okay?”

“Okay,” Buck agrees, only managing to hold out a handful of seconds. He wiggles his way off the counter, half glaring at Eddie as he does. “I’m like half a foot taller than you, Eds. What the fuck are you picking me up for?”

But Eddie only shrugs, looking unrepentant.

“I wanted to.”

…

“No, but seriously,” Buck remembers to protest later, his stomach full and his eyes heavy, “what did she tell you?”

His head is resting on Eddie’s thigh where he’s mostly laying on the couch, though his legs definitely don’t fit.

“She said you thought I was cute,” Eddie says. “And that you laughed when you told her about Abby and the ring…that you’d really moved on.”

The corner of Buck’s mouth quirks up in a smile that he can’t stop, so he closes his eyes to keep himself from seeing Eddie’s reaction.

“Yeah,” he agrees eventually, “I guess I have.”

…

**Author's Note:**

> hey hey :) thank you so much for reading if you would like to cry with me or prompt me you can find me [ here ](https://getbvcked.tumblr.com/) thanks!!


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